Just for Now: Escape to New Zealand Book Three

by Rosalind James

  “What’re you still doing here, then?” Natalie demanded. “It’s gone eight already. Go on. Go home and get some more of that.”

  But Natalie hadn’t answered her question, Jenna realized on the bus home. Or, rather, she had. And it had been the answer she’d feared.

  Finn was there to meet her in the entryway when she stepped inside.

  “Kids OK?” she pulled back from his embrace to ask.

  “In bed, and asleep,” he confirmed. “I checked. So go put on some of that new gear, and come upstairs.”

  “I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” she hesitated. “Tonight.”

  “Why? Are you on your period? Don’t care.”

  “No!” she laughed, blushing. “No. But . . . Never mind,” she capitulated. “I’ll ask you later.”

  “Later would be better,” he confirmed. “As in later, in bed. After I’ve looked at you in those thong panties enough, and taken them off. I have such good ideas.”

  “OK,” she smiled. “But I need a shower first.”

  “Brilliant,” he told her. “We’ll take it together, get started in there. And then maybe you’ll put on those black things for me, the ones you wore the first night. With the stockings. And we can try something I have in mind. And then I’ll take some of it off, and we’ll try something else. Because I just remembered. It’s your Unbirthday, tonight.”

  “Finn,” she said quietly as they lay together later, still breathing a bit hard. “Am I a nymphomaniac?”

  “What?” He laughed, propped himself on an elbow to look at her. “You?”

  “Because I asked Natalie tonight. How much was . . . you know. Normal. And she didn’t say, exactly. But it seems like I think about it too much.” She felt herself blushing, went on determinedly. “All the time. And I want to do it every day. I think that’s too much. From what she said. That most women don’t feel like that. What does that make me?”

  “Hot,” he told her firmly. Lay back down next to her and pulled her against him.

  “Besides,” he went on more thoughtfully, his hand stroking over her back, “seems to me you went through a fair few of your prime years shut down in that department. Could be you’re just catching up. And we only have a few weeks here. Got to pay it forward as well.”

  “That’s true,” she said more cheerfully. “What about you? You seem to think about it a lot too.”

  He laughed again. “I’m a bloke. It’s what we do. Haven’t you heard? Yeh, I think about it a fair bit. And I’m doing some catching up too, remember?”

  “What? A few months, maybe? It hardly compares, does it?”

  “Oi. For me, it does,” he protested. “And remember, I spent those months living with you. And I knew what the possibilities were. What I was missing. So I’ve been saving all this up. Just like you.”

  “I’m not a nymphomaniac, then.” She wriggled closer to the warmth of his big body.

  “Dunno. Are you eyeing the postie, these days? Wondering how he looks under that sexy uniform?”

  “No!” she giggled.

  “My mate Ian looking good to you today?” he asked in mock alarm. “Got you fancying a shag in the supply cupboard after all?”

  She hit him in the chest. “You know I’m not. Don’t be silly. You know it’s just you.”

  He leaned across her to turn out the bedside light. “Reckon you’re not a nymphomaniac, then,” he said, rolling her over and settling himself around her spoon fashion, one big arm resting across her chest. “And that I’m a lucky fella. Now go to sleep, please.”

  “I should go back to my own bed,” she protested, nestling into him.

  “I’ll wake you in time,” he promised. “And I love to fall asleep with you. Stay with me.”

  Chapter 26

  “What the . . . Jenna!”

  She winced at the slammed door and the volume of the shout, then took a deep breath and continued sorting laundry. Listened to Finn striding through the house, still shouting for her, until he appeared in the doorway of the laundry room, a paper in his hand and a scowl on his face.

  “I’ve been calling you,” he told her in frustration. “Why haven’t you answered?”

  “I can’t hear you when you shout that loudly,” she told him calmly as she finished loading the machine.

  “I don’t like to be yelled at,” she clarified as he stared at her in bafflement. “Now that you’re not shouting, though, what can I help you with?”

  “This.” He held up the paper, shook it for good measure. “Did you see this?”

  She nodded, added detergent and fabric softener to the machine. “I found it in Sophie’s backpack this morning and put it out for you.”

  “She’s been reading under the desk in class, not paying any attention? So much that the teacher has to write to me about it? I’m going to have a few words for her when she gets home.”

  “Maybe you should find out more about it first,” she suggested.

  “What is there to find out about? It’s unacceptable.” His voice was rising again.

  “Please don’t yell at me. If you want to discuss this, we’ll talk. Otherwise, take your anger somewhere else,” she told him firmly.

  “What is there to talk about?” he asked again. But he did lower his voice.

  “Well, for one thing, is she doing it in every subject, or just in some?”

  “What does that matter?”

  “I’m thinking if it’s during math or science, it’s an issue. But if it’s just during reading . . .” Jenna shrugged. “It could be that she’s bored. She’s reading and writing a couple grade levels above her age, you know. Have you looked at the work she brings home?”

  “Not much,” he admitted.

  “Maybe you ought to do that. It’s too easy for her, Finn. She should be doing something that will push her. Maybe she could even join a Year Four or Five classroom every day for reading and writing. Or read and write about some of her own books. I don’t know for sure, of course, but I’m guessing that could be the issue. You might want to have a talk with the teacher before you discuss it with Sophie.”

  “Right. I’ll do that,” he said grudgingly. “But in any case, she needs to pay attention during school. That’s her job. She needs to work at it.”

  “Granted. But it’s also the school’s job to challenge her.”

  “Why do you have to be so bloody reasonable?” he grumbled. “You have an answer for everything. You won’t even let me yell.”

  She smiled. “Guess you’ll have to save all that explosive power of yours for the rugby field. You’re probably too bottled up right now, three whole weeks with no practice or anything.” She turned on the washer, leaned over to pull the towels from the dryer. Then jumped at the feeling of his big hand closing over her backside.

  “You could be right,” he told her, his other hand reaching out now to pull her back against him. “Reckon I need another outlet for my . . . explosive power.”

  “Finn,” she laughed as he pulled her close with one hand and reached around to unbutton her blouse with the other. “I’m doing the laundry here.” The laugh turned to a moan as he bent to kiss the side of her neck, one hand pulling off her blouse, under her bra now, the other hand moving beneath her skirt.

  “Mmm. So sexy doing it, too,” he said. “Barefoot. Very cooperative of you to wear this little skirt. Almost like you were expecting me.”

  She felt him hard against her and couldn’t help pressing back into him as he used both hands now to pull off her underwear, then unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. “It’s the middle of the day,” she protested weakly.

  “Kids in school, hot woman getting her gear off,” he agreed. “Works for me.” He looked around, walked her over to the big laundry table, the folded clothes stacked neatly on top.

  His breath was coming faster now. “Bend over and hold onto the edge,” he instructed, undoing his belt and unzipping his jeans.

  Her eyes opened wide even as a rush of heat flooded through
her. “What?”

  “Do it. Please,” he amended. She heard the sound of the condom packet ripping. He really did mean to do it right here. Feeling both embarrassed and excited, she bent over and reached out both hands to grasp the table’s edge. She felt him hard behind her as his big hands came around to cover her breasts. Feeling him like this, not being able to see him, her vulnerable position, his hands on her, pinching the nipples now, all combined in a rush of sensation. She moaned as he let go of her breasts, flipped up her skirt, and positioned her to push himself inside.

  It should have been too soon, but she was more than ready for him. She backed up against him as he held her, pushed into her again and again. Heard his breath coming hard now, matching her own. When he reached his hand around to rub her, she pressed back against him, moaning with it now.

  “Please. Yes. Harder,” she gasped as he thrust into her, his hand never stopping. She was past caring how she looked, bent over the table like this, how hard he was holding her, the force of it. He took her higher and higher, more and more, until she released with a wailing cry.

  He needed to see the rest of her, right now. He pulled her upright, lifted her up onto the table, pushed her down and pulled her hips level with its edge, open to him. Stepped up to her, one hand on each white thigh, and slowly, so slowly, entered her again. Watched her head go back, then move from side to side as he thrust.

  “Tell me,” he got out as he moved. “You need to tell me . . . aah . . . which way you like it. When I get the right spot, the right way for you.” He shifted position a bit, moved her legs wider apart, reached his hands underneath her to pull her even closer, lift her into him. “Better?”

  “Ah . . .” Her hips rose in his hands to meet him. “Yes. Yes. Do it like that. More.” Her own hands went to her breasts, caressing them as he moved in her, and his excitement ratcheted up another notch. She was moaning again now, calling out to him. He felt the moment when she began to go up again, and this time, when she went over the top, he was there with her, in an orgasm so powerful it was almost painful, shouting out his release with her.

  Afterwards, he grabbed a dirty T-shirt from the laundry basket at his feet, wiped both of them off with it. Zipped himself up again and helped her off the table, steadied her against him when her legs wobbled.

  “All right?”

  She laughed shakily and let him hold her against him, rested her cheek against his broad chest. “Not sure. I’m going to have to fold all these clothes again, too.”

  He smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll help you. Since I’m the one who jumped you. Sorry. Not too romantic. Your fault, though. You’re too sexy. I needed to throw you down this time. But come on. We’ll take a shower and start over again in bed. I’ll make it up to you.”

  “I wasn’t exactly complaining.”

  “You were screaming, though,” he grinned. “But you’re right, it didn’t sound like complaining.”

  “Very gentlemanly of you to mention that. But I can’t. If I don’t go to the grocery store before I go meet the kids, you aren’t going to have any dinner. You wouldn’t want me to get in trouble. I have a very mean boss. You should see what he does to me.”

  “Bet if you made him happy enough, he’d take you and the kids out to the pub instead,” he suggested, his hands moving to pull off her skirt at last. “And I know how you can do that. Starting by walking up those stairs in front of me.”

  “You already got pretty happy,” she pointed out. “And I got very happy.”

  “Come on,” he urged. “Come make me even happier. I’ll tell you exactly how. And then you can tell me.”

  “I can’t finish, Daddy,” Sophie said with a sigh.

  “No worries,” Finn answered, pulling her plate towards him. “I have room.”

  “I was wondering why you didn’t insist that she get the kids’ version,” Jenna remarked. “Now I get it.”

  He grinned at her. “They do a pretty fair steak here. But their bangers and mash are choice. And you know how I feel about getting everything I like.” He speared a chunk of sausage and smiled at the kick she sent him under the table.

  “What?” he asked innocently, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  “Well. Fancy meeting you here.” Jenna turned around to see Ben Thompson arriving at their table. “Giving Jenna a bit of a holiday from the kitchen, eh.”

  “That’s right.” Finn looked Ben over. “You’ve packed on a kilo or two since the end of the season, haven’t you? Bit too much beer, maybe.” He nodded to the glass in Ben’s hand. “Want to watch that.”

  “Finn, for heaven’s sake,” Jenna protested. “Would you like to join us, Ben? We’re finishing up, but sit down for a minute and have a chat.”

  “Dunno.” Ben looked at Finn challengingly. “Not sure how welcome I am.”

  “Nah. Sit down.” Finn shoved a chair out with his foot and watched as Ben levered himself into it, taking a sip from his brimming glass. “Jenna thinks I’m rude, so I’ll try again. How’re you going? Thought you’d be in the Coromandel for the fishing.”

  “Another couple weeks,” Ben said. “Planning a trip to Tonga too, next month.”

  “Wow. That sounds great.” Jenna said enviously. “It’s nice, I hear.”

  “You’ve never been? How about the other islands?”

  “Fiji once, years ago,” Jenna said. “But that’s it. Do you go a lot?”

  “Every year, at least once. Go with a few mates, do a bit of diving, some fishing. I went to Samoa after the semifinal this year, drowned my sorrows.”

  “Yeh. I heard,” Finn said. “And I was serious. You don’t want to come back out of condition in January. It may seem like you have heaps of time now, almost three months out. But you’d be surprised how hard it is to climb back if you let yourself go. Want to make sure you’re getting the running and the gym time in, too. You’re looking a bit soft around the midsection.”

  Harry reached out with a small finger and poked Ben in his middle. “You’re right, Daddy. Ben’s squishy. Not all hard like you.”

  “Harry!” Jenna felt herself flush. “Don’t you remember my telling you that it isn’t polite to talk about how people look?”

  “You said ladies,” Harry protested. “You and Daddy said not to talk about ladies’ bottoms. When I said about the wombats. But Ben isn’t a lady. And I wasn’t talking about his bottom. Anyway, Daddy was talking about it first.”

  Ben grinned and looked from Finn to Jenna. “Ladies’ bottoms? Yeh, Harry. I’d listen to your dad. Leave that one to him.”

  Jenna looked helplessly at Finn. “That’s my cue to excuse myself. This one’s yours. Talk to your son. Come on, Sophie. We’re going to the toilet.”

  Ben watched them go. “Bit cozy,” he remarked. “Do I take it that you’ve overcome your scruples?”

  “Remember when I told you that what Jenna did was none of your business?” Finn asked, his voice carrying a distinct note of warning. “Leave it.”

  “Ah.” Ben’s cheeky good humor appeared unruffled. “No point in my trying again, then. Pity, but there you are.” He got up to leave. “No point in my hanging about, either. Because the scenery just got a lot less interesting.”

  Finn held out up a restraining hand. “Half a mo. I meant what I said, earlier. You need to step up your workouts. I’m at Les Mills most mornings around nine. Come join me.”

  “Don’t have a membership.”

  “Get one,” Finn ordered. “That’s your new assignment. And meet me there tomorrow morning.”

  “Aw, geez,” Ben complained. “I stop by to say a friendly hello, and not only do I get warned off, I get dragged into extra workouts during my holiday.”

  “Right on both counts,” Finn said firmly. “And I know why you stopped by. So don’t start with that. See you tomorrow at nine.”

  “Right,” Ben sighed. “See you then.”

  Chapter 27

  “Oh, yeah,” Jenna breathed. “That’s it. Oh, please, Finn.”r />
  “Daddy!” The voice registered dimly. She heard the knocking then, came back to herself with a start.

  “Finn,” she hissed. Grabbed him by the hair when she didn’t get a response. “Finn. Stop.”

  “DADDY!” He heard it now too, froze.

  “Shit,” he groaned as he rolled off her and began to put himself hastily to rights. Pulled his T-shirt and underwear from the floor, tossed Jenna her nightgown. She yanked it on and dashed for the bathroom, shut the door and locked it behind her.

  Harry’s voice, now, coming clearly to her from inside the bedroom. “Daddy.” She heard the sobs, the panic in his voice. “I’m scared. And I can’t find Jenna. She’s gone, Dad.”

  “Nah.” Finn’s deep rumble, now. “Just went for a walk, I reckon. Come on. Let’s get you a drink of water, get you back in your bed.”

  She waited, her feet cold on the tiled floor, until she judged that five minutes or so had passed. She opened the bathroom door, crept across to the stairway, looked down cautiously. Got down the stairs as noiselessly as she could, peered into the hallway. Harry’s door stood a bit ajar, but all was dark and quiet. She made it to her own bedroom, climbed, shivering, back into bed and pulled the duvet over herself, trapped her hands between her knees to warm them. That had been too close.

  “Where did you go last night, Jenna?” Harry asked as she poured his orange juice at breakfast. “I went to find you, and you weren’t there. I was scared.”

  “Ah. . .” Jenna looked across at Finn, who raised his eyebrows at her. “Sometimes I have trouble sleeping. I have to get up and do something before I can go back to bed and fall asleep again.”

  Well, it was the truth, she thought as she saw Finn hiding a smile behind one big hand. Except that last night, between the near-discovery by Harry and her body’s unsatisfied state, it had taken her a long, long time to fall asleep. Maybe she should have gone for a walk.

  “Why did you come to find me?” she asked Harry now. “What happened?”

  “I had a really scary dream,” Harry told her. “Really scary. Bad.”